


unbothered

by d__T



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Canon Agender Character, Oral Sex, Other, Power Imbalance, background Charon, exhibitionism if you're paying attention to where Charon is, post parabellum, the adjudicator's gender and sexuality is adjudication, what is consent with that kind of power imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 16:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21666118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d__T/pseuds/d__T
Summary: Winston seems a little too confident after The Continental is restored. The Adjudicator takes him down another peg.
Relationships: The Adjudicator/Winston
Kudos: 9





	unbothered

**Author's Note:**

> once more my only contribution to a fandom is narsty pornography

The Adjudicator looks at Winston. He looks back at them. He seems rather unbothered that the Continental had been taken from him, and what he’d given up to get it back. He’d even turned on John Wick. How fascinating to see how old friends split apart. 

The Adjudicator commands, “Kneel.”

“Really?” Winston says. 

He’s still too confident. They can smell the alcohol on his breath from his stint in the safe room. Not enough to impair him, but maybe enough to loosen him. “Need I repeat myself?”

“Sir.” Charon says. 

“You are dismissed.” They say without looking at him. 

Winston looks between them and Charon. “You may go.”

Charon looks as if he’ll protest, then he turns neatly and walks away. He likely won’t go far. He _is_ a good servant. 

“Kneel.” The Adjudicator repeats themself, the even repetition itself an expression of disappointment. 

“Yeah, okay.” Winston climbs down to his knees. They see his age in his motions. He keeps himself fit but loyalty does not stop the passage of time. He’s been loyal for a _very_ long time. Longer than most have have been alive. 

"Good." They say. 

“I have sworn my fealty. What do you want?” 

“Say it.” 

Winston lets the smallest flicker of annoyance cross his face before clearing it way into an earnest look. “I have served. I will be of service.”

They nod once before sweeping the diagonal front hem of their tunic aside and stepping to him, pressing their crotch against his face. “Then serve.”

Winston sighs, heated breath seeping through their jeans. 

He works with his lips and tongue through the thick fabric and they feel themself warming to the stimulation and his obedience. It’s not about him, really. They’d put Wick or Charon down too, whoever was left standing with the highest rank. 

Wick is out on the street, and Charon has to watch his Manager kneel. 

Winston lifts his hands, placing them against their thighs. They let him complete the motion before abruptly stepping back, leaving him unstable. They slap him across the face with their gloves before stepping in against him again. He keeps his hands on his own thighs after that. 

Winston goes back to service without prompting, which is satisfactory. 

Soon they want more than the muted sensation coming through their jeans. They stash their gloves in their back pocket so that they can more effectively open their belt and slap Winston in the face with the tab end of it. It’s a little crass for them but Winston needs a stronger reminder of his place after the last week’s antics. 

They tilt their hips to provide access to their click. Winston wraps his lips around it and licks at the head of it. They keep their face impassive- he has not earned that- but do let a little tremble into their legs. 

He figures out the trick of humming against their click. It's very effective and it gains him a reactive twitch. It's disgusting, honestly, their lack of control but they really have become quite sensitive. 

They slide one hand through his short hair, weaving their fingers in to grip with. He stills slightly, then groans as they force a tilt into his head that gives them a better angle to thrust against him with. 

They can't quite achieve the gratuitous mess that someone with a penis could, but they are an Adjudicator. They don't make messes, they resolve them. 

Although the one they've created here is very nice; the glint of bitter slick on his chin after they've pressed bruisingly hard against him and then stilled, climax hidden inside their body. 

They pull away and look down on him. He looks up, unwavering. There's an erection distorting the front of his slacks and his hands are still pressed to his thighs, obedient despite his body's betrayal. It almost brings a smile to their face. 

They feel a bit of their climax oozing down inside them. They pass a finger behind their click to collect it and, knowing how bitterly acidic it will be, smears it across Winston's lips. 

He touches it with his tongue and almost recoils. They condescendingly pat the side of his face. 

"What do you do?" The Adjudicator asks. 

Winston holds their gaze, still borderline defiant. "I serve." 

"See that you do." They right their clothing and swoosh out of the shattered room, past Charon who is lurking just where they thought he'd be. 


End file.
